


Iruka — Assisting

by BridgeToTheSky



Series: Somebody To Love - Naruto Edition [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hentai, Lemon, Lime, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BridgeToTheSky/pseuds/BridgeToTheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... Can anybody find the underrated Naruto bishounen somebody to <strike>fuck</strike> - we mean, love!?</p><p>A collection of lemons staring various characters.</p><p><b>Warnings:</b> Mindless smut, non-con, and probably a tentacale or two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Iruka-sensei was a fine specimen.

You watched the brown haired ninja from across the class room, tilting your neck ever so slightly to see past the array of heads, his students blocking the tantalising image before you — you loved it when he stretched, the muscles in his lean arms defined as he scribbled on the chalk board, the outline of his pert rear prominent as the stretchy fabric of his pants curved perfectly against his ass. 

You licked your lips.

The ninja turned to face the class — dark eyes scanning the room to make sure he had his students full attention; his gaze seemingly failing to acknowledge your own, causing you to pout and mentally whine as he rambled on about God only knows what.

A gentle tug on your sleeve diverted your attention,

"(Y/n)-san ..." A young girl began, pointing to her notebook. You bent down to ear level, hearing but not really listening as the student spoke — something about not really understanding, the word confused was used on more than one occasion.., your eyes danced between the rookie ninja and her teacher as you nodded and 'mhm' d every so often, trying to farce the impression of a helpful classroom assistant — which you truly were, when you felt like it, anyway.

But today wasn't one of those days — the past week hadn't been one of those days, not since the … _incident_ , as you called it.

The class laughed; causing you to break out of thought, realizing you had ever so slowly edged away from the girl you were “assisting” to your spot at the back of the class room. You had no idea what they were talking about, let alone laughing,but the handsome brown haired ninja was smiling sheepishly at his young shinobi, his eyes full of warmth as his genuine nature beamed from his face — your heart skipping a slight beat as his eyes caught yours for the briefest of moments.

Iruka perked for a second before whipping his back to the board, and you pouted. 

If he would just look at you … or talk to you … or show some indication that you had known him for nearly all your life, maybe you would be able to work something out! But Iruka’s refusal to engage with you to even the slightest of degrees had, at first, put you in the “angry” department, but now you had swayed your ass into the “slightly saddened” department. His silence and his avoidance upset you, in ways you were a little too proud to admit. 

 

This thought stuck until something much more enticing came and knocked it on its head. Your eyes traveled, slowly, the idea forming in your mind, growing stronger with each passing second, to your bag, and what lie inside. 

You snaked your hand into the carry-all and brought out a perfect banana, firm and deliciously yellow. You unpeeled it, and watched Iruka with excitement, oh so eager for him to turn around once more. He’d have to … eventually …

He did, finally — obviously — and his body turned with him, ready to speak again — until his eyes caught the yellow that had sneaked into his view. His eyes met your mouth, just as your tongue slithered out and gave the banana a slow, savouring lick. 

Your eyes held tease as Iruka’s sentence died, with no hope for revival. 

The kids around you were none the wiser as you took the tip of the banana into your mouth, your lips watering as you imagined its much more enticing replacement. You slowly closed your eyes as you gave it the first suck, your cheeks hollowing and filling when you released it. 

You opened your eyes again, and saw that Iruka had turned the color of fresh tomatoes.

"A-anyway," the ninja quipped, spinning back round to the black board, his hand that held a piece of chalk quivered momentarily before he raised it to his mouth in a fist and cleared his throat.

You glowered, teeth clamping down on the yellow fruit as you took an almighty bite out of the banana; prompting a few inquisitive heads to peek round as the brown haired teacher flinched, the heat of your scowl burning at the back of his neck as you emitted a death glare.

***

Thirty minutes had passed — half an hour of absolute silence as Iruka-sensei decided today was a pop quiz kind of day, much to the distaste of his young students, and yourself.

You sat in a chair at the back of the classroom, a sullen picture painting your face as you propped your chin up with your hands, the poster girl of neglect as you woefully pursed your lips in a childish manner; he didn't look up from his desk, but Iruka could feel the mental whimpers in your gaze; something a kin to a crying puppy, he thought, an eye brow twitching slightly as he pictured your face.

Another ten minutes had ensured, and you were all but ready to throw in the towel and admit defeat —he was far too good at this — when a loud ' **clack'** caught the room off guard. 

A student, a young boy, not like it mattered, blushed as the pencil slipped from his grasp, landing at the front of the classroom, inches away from Irukas desk.

The scene repeated itself in your mind;

The led filled instrument so ... _conveniently_ falling to the ground.

"Um," the boy muttered, embarrassed. "excuse me, I'll just pick that up." he rose from his desk, only to be pushed back down as a hand clasped his shoulder—

In a matter of no time at all, you had magically appeared at the front of the class room.

Iruka looked up, finally having caught his attention, his eyes taking one glance at the devious smile on your face as his twisted into an assortment of warnings; a 'don't you dare' scowl slapped his features as he eyed you with the utmost caution.

"Oh, no! Your pencil" you exclaimed, falsely.

Ignoring the child entirely, eyes fixated on his sensei; you descended the steps to the front of the class, heels clanking with each meeting of wood. You gave Iruka a heated smirk, and knelt down slowly to retrieve the fallen pencil — making a point to wiggle your hips sensually, turning to face the dark haired ninja with a devious smile.

 

You could have sworn you heard the sound of chalk snapping in hand, possibly a reaction of irritation. 

And arousal. 

Your smirk grew to become something truly cheshire cat-ish. 

Slowly, you gathered yourself up and handed the writing tool back to the student, the boy oblivious to the war raging between his sensei and his assistant.

"Thank you, (y/n)-san," he said, fidgeting in his seat. 

"No problem ..." you replied, practically purring; still staring at the ninja at the front of the class.

Iruka, who's normally warm brown eyes, now swam with frustration and desire. 

And he was now sitting behind his desk, and it didn't at all puzzle you as to why. 

You suppressed a giggle; one long, lingering look at your ass was probably enough to invoke a ... gift, so to speak, in his lower regions that he did not want his students aware of. 

Still, you realized quickly that, though you had rattled him with your antics, that it would not be enough to make him crack. Shit.

***

The moments the student filed out in clumps with their friends and the hallway outside grew loud with quiet, you dropped your facade of collecting your things, and said --

"I saw you naked, why can't you just be an adult about it and talk to me?" 

Iruka's hand paused in its objective of grabbing a thin stack of gradework.

The aforementioned "incident" entailed you, after all the years of knowing Iruka, seeing him in his full naked gloring; drips of water from the recent shower sliding down his muscles like rain would window glass, hair down, eyes wide as he noticed you there, practically drooling from the sight. 

He was just as delicious as you imagined ...

The male ninja grabbed his books, his back still facing you; but you could tell he was flustered — a bunch of stray papers escaped the clench of his hands and fell hopelessly to the floor, only heightening the lengths of his frustration.

You cocked an eyebrow, smirking: you really were rattling his cage.

Iruka still hadn't answered you, and by the looks of things, he had no intention of doing so either. With a couple of fluid motions, the brown eyed teacher had scrappled with his rouge paper work, neatly shuffling it into a pile on his desk as he turned on his heel and lowered himself to his chair — flicking open the first page of his grade books — when a hand clamped down on his own, flattening it to the oak.

Iruka looked up, and choked.

You stared at him, deviously, the first few buttons of your shirt accidentally unbuttoned, revealing a set of breasts, perfectly in view for Iruka to enjoy. 

He swallowed hard, and removed your hand from his own.

Fine, you thought, have it your way …

“I’m your assistant, Iruka-kun,” you said, moving slowly behind his chair, leaning down so the weight of your chest was resting near his neck. “At least let me see what you’ve done …” 

You heard Iruka give a sound at the back of his throat, perhaps clearing it, as he took a involuntary whiff of your intoxicating perfume. God, you were … you were … he closed his eyes, opened them, and dedicated himself to focusing. 

All going quite well— until you put hands on him. 

He froze, fingers pinching the edges of the paper he had been reading. Your hands moved over his shoulders, before leaving them and coming back around. 

He spun away from you, not wanting to engage. 

“Oh, really, Iruka, come on —” he heard your sentence halt. “Fine, fine, do what you want.” 

He heard the poof, the telltale sign of the vanishing jutsu, and knew that you had gone. He let out an enormous sigh, feeling relief crash into him. He was drunk with it. Now he could finally get back to work. 

He spun back around to his desk, and happily continued with his grading — 

__

__

__

Hands crept up his thighs, and his eyes widened in horror … you … you hadn’t left the room, you had —! 

Iruka heard the sound of a zipper, and knew he could do nothing to stop you. 

Mmm, you thought, watching as Iruka’s cock sprang free, and you held it in your hands. Just as fine as when you had first saw it, you licked your lips, and began to pump, slowly at first. You could feel Iruka tensing to your touch. You smiled with a purr, and leaned in to give his manhood a teasing lick, causing the man in your hands to jump with a strange yelping sound. 

"(Y/n)!" He cried out, flustered and enraged. 

Iruka shifted in his seat, trying to shoo you away from … that area of his body, but you were relentless. Finally, when his avoidance became too much for you to bother with, you opened your mouth wide and devoured his cock, freezing him in place. 

Iruka moaned as you sucked, hearing your soft purring, bringing vibrations to his length and making your mission even more unbelievably pleasurable to him. 

Iruka gripped his seat, his knuckles whitening. He threw his head back as you continued sucking on him. Your hand held him tight, sliding in sync with your mouth, causing his cock to become slick with your saliva.

Iruka held his mouth slack before trying to compose himself somewhat, his breathing heavy. 

Oh, he was ready to come. It was there, in reach, just … just a little more … oh … oh! … Iruka bit his lip —

“Iruka?” 

Iruka’s eyes widened as he scooted in his desk. You released his cock from your mouth with a ‘pop’ you hoped wasn’t too audible.

Misery mixed with pleasure inside Iruka like a sweet/sour drink, and he turned to see one of the other sensei's at the open door, knuckles hovering inches away from the wood.

Misery, pleasure, than … terror. 

Had he knocked? Had he — had he seen?! —

“I was wondering if I could collect those grade books now?” said the sensei. He was significantly younger than Iruka himself, a face that became more clear the closer he got to the desk (Iruka, pushed himself in tighter, praying to any deity that would assist him to allow you to stay in your place …). “I wanted to give you a moment or two before horning in, but I really can’t wait anymore.” 

“Oh, erm — Sure,” Iruka said. Handing him the books one by one. “Here you go — OH!”

Clearly … this was the world telling him that atheism was the way to go, because you had gripped his sensitive length again, casually placing it back in to your mouth. 

“Hm?” said the sensei. “Something wrong, Iruka?” 

“No, oh, nothing,” Iruka replied. He clenched the edges of the desk, reaching for his composure and coming up empty. “I just … have a bad headache — ah — ache … yes, that’s right.” 

“Oh, well …” said the sensei, looking somewhat unconvinced. “I hope you feel better. Good day!” 

“Likewise …” Iruka said, feeling the sudden rush of pleasure return to him, jump-starting what he knew was right around the corner. 

Finally, when the hallway was vacant of footsteps, Iruka threw his head back, allowing his orgasm full access to his body. He let out a strangled moan as you sucked on him, fiercely, not allowing a drip of his seed to go wasted.

Iruka sat, slack, over his chair as you climbed out from your spot, feeling highly satisfied. 

You looked to Iruka, who was breathing heavily still, but his glare was not at all fleeting. “Completely … irresponsible. Get … get out —” 

“Oh, c’mon,” You said. “What do I have to do? You liked it, Iruka, why can’t you just admit that?”

When Iruka refused to answer, you watched for a couple seconds more as he recollected himself. 

You sighed, your shoulders slacking as you turned away from him and descended down the hallway.

***

“I’m sorry, okay?” You said. 

Iruka’s eyes were closed, fingers laced as he rested his chin. “I don’t need an apology, I just need silence.”

You relaxed your shoulders; was he truly mad at you?

You had invited him to dinner to find out exactly that, and now that he had been here with you (five apologies later and an extra scoop of ice cream — so six, technically) you were worried you had truly damaged one of the most precious things in your life; your friendship with Iruka. 

The dark haired ninja had reluctantly agreed to join you — _reluctantly,_ and he pointedly emphasised the fact he was not there on his own accordance — answering you with curt replies or straight down ignoring you entirely. You were worried, had you really upset him that much?

A sudden pang of desperation rang through you, and you reached hesitantly for the hand of the man across from you. 

Before your nails even grazed a tad of his skin, Iruka poofed in thin air, leaving behind a jumpy and devastated you. 

“What — Iruka — wait!” you said, but as the air cleared and the residents around you settled back in their seats (ninja-stuff, ugh), you had no choice but to settle.

You felt like crying, and at that sensation you felt a sting to your eyes as the waiter approached you. 

“What will it be, miss?” he asked, clipboard and pen at the ready. 

You gave a shuddering sigh, forcing the thought of tears away. “I’ll have a —AHA!”

Once again, the customers around you turned to your table, once again disturbed.

You’re eyes widened, darting — had you felt … had you felt what you thought you —

Ah!

You knew now, as you arched yourself, that it was no mistake; a finger. A single finger had grazed against your clothed crouch for the second time. 

You had to be dreaming. 

The waiter bent down, features painted with concern. “Hm? Are you all right, miss?” 

“Fi — ahaa! — fine!” You said. Your eyes drifted — open, close, open, close — as you felt Iruka’s hands trace the edges of your panties; you felt the slightest skin of his fingers graze over the sides of your thighs. Iruka placed a hand in between your lips, and gently, slowly, dragged it down in a agonizing stroke … 

“Are you sure?” said the waiter, entirely unconvinced of your fineness. “You look a tad … ill, ma’am.”

Oh, I’m fine, you thought to yourself, crossing your arms as you fought to contain yourself to Iruka’s finger (now fingers; two … then three … rotating around and around and around —) pressing into you, gently padding you, teasing … 

“Can you — can you come ba — AH! — ck?” You try to get out to the waiter, resisting the urge to clench on to the fine table cloth. “I — I think I need a second …” 

The waiter backed away from you, now looking more disturbed than worried for your wellbeing, and disappeared into the kitchens. 

You lifted the table cloth immediately, and was greeted with Iruka’s taunting face.

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?” You whispered, eyebrow twitching. 

“You brought it on yourself!” Iruka hissed, and returned to his work, circling his tongue over your clothed clit.

The heat from your groin spread to your face — insecurely, you turned to check your neighbouring tables, hoping nobody was watching — you had already kicked up quite the scene, then diverted your attention back to the man between your legs, who, with great content, continued with his work — smirking all the while.

"Iruka..." 

You gritted your teeth, clamping your legs around his head in hopes of deterring him — which failed miserably as the strong sensei wrenched them apart further, burying his mouth even deeper into your mound — sucking on your clit with a playful nip.

You cried out, throwing you head back against the chairs handle, prompting a few nosey diners to cock an eyebrow.

You blushed furiously, forcing a highly dramatised cough out of your throat as you mouthed something about a cold — all the while trying to steady your top half from jerking like your legs which quivered shamelessly under the shield of the table cloth.

Snaking a hand under the table, you pressed against Iruka's head — trying to pry the ninja away from your most sensitive area, which ended futile as he pinned it to your lap. 

Your underwear was soaked; dripping.

A concoction of saliva and juices trailed down your legs — you felt filthy, disgusting, as you helplessly twitched, deciding to swipe for the menu with your free hand to try and hide your shame which evidently splayed on your face — you didn't know what you were meant to do.

You found it awkward enough when you dined solo, feeling like some type of creepy weirdo, let alone when he was doing something so shameless to you — never in a million years would you have thought Mr. 'You're-so-Irresponsible' would be so brazen, it was simply out of character. 

I must have **really** pissed him off, you all but mentally whined as your legs spasmed wildly, your cheeks strawberry red as your face twisted into an array of expressions.

Your thoughts turned away from the man between your legs — you had to, you decided, as you attempted to think of things, different things, anything, that would numb the delicious churn of sensations that rested just below your navel, and the man, the oh so beautiful man, who continued his assault on your nether regions.

Today's specials (beef ramen) ... The color of the walls... kittens ... hell, grandma — your mind wandered as you attempted to ease your body from withering, hoping the sensei would succumb to lock jaw, perhaps even embarrassment from his bold actions — your gaze fixated on the condiments as you held on for what seemed dear life — your determination fruitful, as the culprit of your discomfort stirred in annoyance. 

Iruka quietly growled; Prying his fingers into the elastic of your saturated panties as he hoisted the material to one side — you felt the cold hair hit your heated flesh as your mouth fell open "Don't you dare—!"

— The warning left your lungs in a strangled cry.

The waiter who was en route to take your order once more deterred in his travels, back tracking to the counter, sweat dropping as all eyes landed on you — Iruka's tongue thrashed you, his lips now suckling against your unclothed clit as he shook his head from side to side; his assault now restless, determined — taking no hostages.

You tightened your grip on the menu, lurching over the table. Oh … what you wouldn’t do to be able to drag him out from under you, throw him on the table, punch him in the face and then fuck him right there, but you bit your lip as his tongue swirled against your clit, probed into your entrance, lapped up the juices continuing to leak from your eager entrance.

You shivered — oh, oh, oh! — as your orgasm came to you in a long, drawn out blast and with it came the sound of your high cries of ecstasy, you bounced, thrusting yourself further into Iruka’s mouth, no longer caring who saw (which was everyone).

With a long “oh …” you rested your back, feeling the heat in your face. You heard another “poof” and knew Iruka had gone for real this time. You snapped out of it quickly, composing yourself as best you could and rising from the chair.

He wasn’t getting away with this. 

Hand signs followed— You poofed away, intent on following him. 

A woman’s lips curved with tease as she said to her waiter, “I’ll have whatever she had.” 

***

“I —RU —KA!”

The door to his apartment flew open, nearly flying off the hinges, fragile compared to your anger and frustration.

“WHERE ARE YOU? —” 

“Here …” 

An arm snaked around your waist and pulled you back. You tried to turn your head with a growl, only to be blocked by Iruka, who’s lips were inching near your ear. 

“It was your own fault, you know …” Iruka purred, massaging your stomach with his hand. “If you hadn’t been so …” Iruka let his hand wander into your sash, rising it to fondle a breast, and your anger was drowned away by a new ignition of pleasure, “disruptive, in my class the other day. I didn’t appreciate it. So you see, I had to get my revenge on you, one way or another.”

He found the nub of your breast, and pinched, causing you to relax into him. Iruka moved his other hand to loosen your sash until your kimono came free. You wiggled yourself out of it. 

“The door …” You said, voice fogged with lust. 

Iruka left you only for a second to shut the door, and you let your kimono flow to the floor. You turned to him just as he made his way back to you, and he stopped, admiring you in your naked glory. 

“See?” You said, revealing yourself to him as though you were on the runway. “Now, we’re even.”

Iruka smiled, coming to you again. He gripped your arms softly, forcing them over your head and pressing you against the wall. He brought his lips down to yours, and gave you a lingering kiss. It warmed you, and you wrapped arms around his neck. It did nothing to stifle your desire, but something else took lust’s place for that moment; closeness, intimacy. You pressed harder into Iruka, but there was nothing to help dissolve your need for him.

In every way, in all ways. 

Iruka rose you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, eyes closed, but you could feel him carrying you, leading you to elsewhere. Elsewhere, with a bed, you hoped, a shiver of excitement rippling through you as one of Iruka’s hands massaged the dips of your back. 

Your hopes were answered, the dark haired man lowered your form against soft linen, his hand gently guiding your head to a plush pillow —shortly accompanied by the ninjas weight as he pressed himself against you.

Iruka's lips met yours with a lingering kiss before he pulled back; dark eyes soaking in your brazenly naked form as he rested between your thighs - his clothed budge shamelessly pressing against your opening. 

Heat hit your core causing you to shiver, he was so close to you now, the only thing separating your wanton body from his perfectly sculpted form being his standard — and currently irritating, burdensomeu— chunin uniform.

You rose a hand to the zipper of the body warmer and wrenched it down his chest: Iruka assisted you, pulling both arms out of the green clothing and leaving it to fall carelessly to the bedroom floor - his polo shirt soon followed, revealing more of his sun kissed skin as he slowly inched the material over his head, letting it join its companion on the ground with a light thud.

A moment of silence ensured; you eagerly traced Iruka's lean, defined torso with your finger tips —carefully mapping his body out for what you hoped would be future encounters; making sure to drink in every last detail of his enticing form in case you never saw it again — the sensei could be such a prude.

Iruka brought his body to yours, his hard chest crushing your soft breasts caused you to cry out; you were so hot, your body ached as he pressed his lips to your collarbone, taking the skin into his mouth and suckling feverishly; a hand slithered between your bodies and cupped your breast, squeezing the tender mound with intense need as he groaned.

"(Y/n)" he began, his voice strangled, laden with lust.

Iruka looked at you —a stern yet heated expression gracing his features,

"I think we've fooled around long enough."

Indeed, you thought hotly, in-fucking-deed. You worked on the removal of his pants, tugging them down his strong legs. Iruka finished them off for you, leaving them dangling on the very edge of the bed, forgotten, along with, seconds later, his boxers.

You could feel Iruka’s hard-on pressing into your stomach, hot and ready, and had been for ages. You moved to caress it, snaking a hand between your hard-pressed bodies. You held it in your grip, causing Iruka to close his eyes and let out a small groan.

You angled your leg around his own, and positioned him to where you wanted him most. Iruka took the message, and slowly drove his way into you, filling you, all those moments without him nothing in comparison to what it was like to have him in, around, surrounding you the way he was at that moment. 

You threw your head back at the first thrust, feral and wildly, not intending to be. You pressed nails into the skin of his back, clawing him, and Iruka grunted with the pleasure-pain.

Another thrust, and you wrapped legs around him for a second time, hoping to cling to not just him, but the feeling he was giving you. You rose to kiss Iruka, feeling his tongue infiltrate you immediately. Iruka brought his hands to work on your breasts, fondling and grabbing, thumbs circling your pert nipples, erected from pleasure and sudden cold. 

You shivered as another thrust was given to you like a gift. Iruka focused on his pelvic muscles, forcing himself in deeper — deeper, deeper, deeper, oh, can’t be deep enough! — while he continued to tackle your chest. You let out a whine-moan as his nails grazed the sensitive skin of your sides—

Oh … this wasn’t going to last long; you rationalized that, at least, while Iruka continued to pound you relentlessly, groan after grunt, grunt after groan, lips leaving your own and traveling to the dip of your neck. You felt the tightening start to build at the harsh assault on your core, causing you to quiver and —

“Oh, Iruka!” You screamed before Iruka rolled over, your weight toppling his own. 

“Do it,” he said, his voice wasn’t his own; something animal and lascivious had taken his place. His hair had come apart from its ponytail, allowing his locks to spill out on the pillow, sweat collecting on his collarbone and forehead despite the chill of the night. “Ride me.”

You were entranced; nothing would ever be as sexy as this, you were sure of it. And at the thought of Iruka-sensei having completely lost all ability to practice restraint, you rose and fell —

Iruka tensed against you as you began your rhythm, skin smacking with every plunge you took. You opened your mouth of in a moan, turning your head as Iruka’s hands went to your hips, holding you in place. You hit that spot, and you buckled at the sudden eruption of pleasure overtaking you. Not quite an orgasm, but … pretty damn close. 

You went on — “Oh! Oh! Iruka! I — Oh!” You tried to get out in between bouts of carnal sounds. Iruka’s hand moved from your hip to grip the meat of your ass, and you clenched harder against him. 

With a violent thrash, Iruka came, and you followed seconds later, your orgasm choking you, wrapping around you as you convulsed lightly, leaning over Iruka’s strong form as he gave out heavy breaths. 

Neither of you moved until moments passed by, pleasure that bordered on violent subsided, allowing the pair of you to clear your fogged heads. 

Iruka was first to speak. “That … that was …” 

“Good?” You tried to finish for him. 

“I was, erm, going to say building up for a while.” 

“Oh,” You replied dumbly, biting your lip against his chest. “That, too.”

The two of you laughed at the absurdity of it all, and you climbed into a much more comfortable position that involved Iruka holding you, and your head against his chest. Your bodies resting, before finally giving into sleep entirely.

***

 

"Is there any thing else I can do, _sensei?_ " You purred, fluttering your eye lashes coyly.

Iruka tapped a finger to his chin, a slight 'Hm...' Leaving his throat as he pondered, leaning back into his chair, before — a book flew off his desk, blatantly swiped by his own arm — 

"I seemed to have dropped my work."

The ninja indicated, smirking playfully all the while.

"Ohh~" you sang, wiggling your hips as you bent down to collect the object.

You placed it on his desk, exchanging heated glances momentarily before the pair of you erupted into abundance of laughter — Iruka's students, sweat dropping, stared on in utter confusion, fearful to remind the pair of you that they were still there.


	2. Primitive - Kisame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worked so hard on this! Hope you all liked! So sorry it took so long!

The fish man parted his lips into a smirk, revealing rows of the sharpest of shark teeth.

 

He … enjoyed the position you were in — very, **_very_ ** much.

 

You were on your side in the grass, head against the lone tree. A book was open in front of you, absorbing all of your available attention. Your legs weren’t clothed by the usual trousers you were, but now exposed due to your thigh-length black dress. So interested in your novel that you didn’t notice that Kisame the shark man had been eyeing you for the last couple seconds …

 

Of course, Kisame knew, you never tried to look so model-esque. But you had the greatest of tendency to fall into positions that were exactly that … either that, or his mind was on sensitive overdrive from … just … you.

 

Did you have to have this effect on him?

 

Kisame was taken from his thoughts as he witnessed you curving one of your soft, milky legs upwards, licking your lips as your eyes further scanned the novel laying in her hands.

 

Kisame shivered, his eyes narrowing.

 

What was he doing? Lurking in the background like some shy, perverted school boy? This wasn’t who he was … he was a predator, he was shinobi, one of the Akatsuki. This couldn’t be him.

 

And yet it was, at that moment. He was somewhat hesitant because … well … he had grown to enjoy your company, as more than a man who lusted after a luscious female would. But as a … dare he say it … a companion of some sorts. Not love, of course — _hell no_ — but … something more than a primitive instinct.

 

Clenching his jaw, he tried at approaching you. Immediately, at the sound of grass crunching over feet, you moved, seeing Kisame behind you.

 

“Kisame,” you said, tilting yourself up. You moved your legs to the side — were you making space for him beside you? — and placed the novel in your lap. “Something wrong?”

 

Kisame eyed your legs, still perfectly bare to him, though no longer suggestive … though they did manage at being suggestive just by being … well, the way they were. Irritation bit at him as he imagined them around his waist, how they would feel while he nestled his head between them, lapping desperatelyat your —

 

“Kisame?”

 

“It’s nothin’ …” Kisame said, really to just shut you up.

 

But your curiosity was piqued now as the shark man turned away, leaning against the tree.

 

You closed your book with a soft thud. “It’s doesn’t sound like nothin’,” you said, copying his attempted nonchalant tone. “It sounds like somethin’ —”

 

“Well, it ain’t.” Kisame said, huffing and puffing to the side.

 

You held up hands. “Fine, whatever … —”

 

Kisame felt it coming, and tightened his fist for what was to come next —

 

“— _nemo_ …”

 

A growl, you felt a hand clench your top and propel your forward. Kisame’s fist was balled, teeth bared as he pulled you to him.

 

“What,” he said harshly, eye to eye with your smiling face, “did I tell you about calling me that?”

 

“That I shouldn’t do it,”

 

“And why are you still doing it?”

 

“Because you remind me of the cute little fishy who lost his daddy in the ocean —”

 

“Urgh!” Kisame threw you to the side, and you fell the rest of the way, losing all sense of composure as you burst out laughing.

 

Kisame glared as you giggled, holding your sides. He was ready to rip your vocal cords out with his bare teeth! And yet …

 

_Yet …_

 

At this angle, Kisame grudgingly noticed, your legs were parted … allowing him a view of pure white panties, outlining the shape of your …

 

Then, a thought came to the shark man, who’s glare melted and transfigured into the most dangerous of smirks …

 

You wanted to laugh? Fine, but he knew exactly what would get you back in place.

 

Ominously oblivious to the plan forming in your comrades mind, you continued to laugh. Nemo — _Nemo_!

 

But your euphoria came to a tragic end as quickly as it had arrived; literally and figuratively, something loomed over you, and you could sense it. You opened your eyes, slightly watered by the tears of laughter, and saw Kisame, his smile something that could not be described as anything other than vicious.

 

“Hey,” he said, his voice threateningly soft as a hand began to softly trace your leg. “Tell me something, (y/n), do you always —”

 

That said hand crept into your skirt, nails slightly grazing your inner thigh, and a finger rested between the clothed lips of your vagina —

 

“— wear lacy underwear?”

 

Your eyes widened, gulped at the feel of Kisame’s large finger grazing you. All laughter had died away as … a heat took its place.

 

“Ki — Kisame!” You stuttered, trying to squeeze your legs shut, but Kisame was quicker; using his other arm to keep you open to him.

 

His chuckle was dark as you gasped, feeling him press harder into you. Your lips were inches apart, and you could almost graze the tip of one of his deadly teeth.

 

Kisame moved quickly; you hardly saw him as he cut your tiny dress to pieces, the flimsy fabric flying away, scattering in the wind.

 

You yelped at the sudden cold, but you didn’t attempt to conceal yourself. Why? You didn’t understand, why were you not more … apprehensive?

 

Kisame looked you over, his eyes darting, desperate to catch every slight of your flesh that your body had to offer. You were so … so …

 

Kisame smirked as the right word greeted him: _vulnerable._

 

He pounced on you, your eyes popping open as his lips made contact with your own. With a groan, his tongue invaded your mouth, his hips driving into your own, hand going to inspect your supple breasts —

 

You let your head fall back, exhaling through your nose as Kisame continued to assault you in every way imaginable, and you … you could feel wetness building up in your core.

 

You forced your lips away from his own, and before Kisame could violently reclaim them, said, “Touch me.”

 

Kisame distanced himself from you a mere couple of inches, rising his eyebrows in surprise at your demand, and the look that had come to your eye. Lust on match with his own.

 

His surprise lasted no longer than a second, and with a quick movement, your panties were ripped from you, the latch keeping your bra in place lost as well, falling from you.

 

You rose, feeling yourself throb with excitement. “Come on,” You said, leaning forward to press naked breasts against Kisame’s akatsuki cloak. “Where’s your initiative? Don’t tell me you’re going to let me down, _Kisame-kun_ …”

 

You watched, thrilled, as Kisame licked his lips, his stare nothing less of animal as he tackled you, undoing his cloak, and kneading your wet mound, juices gushing against his fingers.

 

His lips crashed into yours again. You moved to help him remove his onyx shirt, he tore it from his body, discarding it elsewhere. You let your hands roam against his chest — he was so finely toned, ripples of fine, bluish muscle responding to each of your touches. You once again broke the harsh kiss with Kisame to explore him with your mouth, leaving trails of saliva with each slow, savoring lick. You met his chest, and latched your lips onto one of his nipples, holding the nub in between your teeth.

 

Kisame grunted — lecherous woman! Did you even know what you did to him? What you had been? For ages now? Sexual frustration building up in him like water to a well, never ceasing to rise.

 

You descended lower still, until you nails grazed the soft hairs trailing down his abdomen. You felt, with satisfaction, Kisame shiver as you gripped his pants, slowly pulling them away from his hips, exposing more of his toned body until they fell away. You hooked your fingers into the elastic of Kisame’s colorless boxers at last, the throbbing in your core intensifying, rivaling the relentless thrum of your heartbeat. You pulled the boxers down to Kisame’s thighs, his thick cock springing.

 

… and a second springing along with it.

 

You stared, dumbfounded, as the pair of cocks dangled in your face. Kisame’s harsh laughter rang through, breaking the surprised silence.

 

“Are you surprised?” he said, voice mocking. “You’re not backing out, are you —Urgh!”

 

Using both hands, you had gripped each cock, holding them first in tight grips. Kisame rolled over, suddenly overwhelmed by the preemptive pleasure. You straddled the shark man, hands meeting with his cocks again, pumping hard and in near complete unison.

 

Kisame grunted abruptly, bringing a hands up to halt your ministrations. You made eye contact with him, his eyes fierce and laced with desire.

 

 _Why’d he —?_ You thought, but then you realized.

 

And you smirked.

 

“You’re close,” You said; obvious correct, as Kisame turned his head from you, “aren’t you?”

 

“Shut it, woman.”

 

You released Kisame, positioning yourself so you that could could comfortably bend down and give both heads a teasing lick.

 

“Would you like me to …” You purred, swirling a tongue over the head closest to you “ … finish you with my mouth?”

 

Kisame closed his eyes, suppressing a shudder. Fucking hell, what would he have to do to have that etched into his memory for all time? Willing to summon whenever he really, really needed it? You, bend over him, tongue to work, asking him that?

 

Thankfully for Kisame, you needed no real answer; you took one of his cocks into your mouth, firmly sucking. Your hands working on the other, stroking it in turn — left hand, right hand, left hand, right hand — with a soft moan.

 

Kisame let out a harsh cry — Oh, _**fuck**_ — and held your head in place, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. You happily took him, feverishly jerking the other. You felt Kisame tense when you removed one hand to play with his full testicles —

 

Hard grip on your hair, long groan escaping, Kisame came. His semen filled your mouth, while his other cock shot out hot ropes of it, some landing in your hair and in between the two of you.

 

You wildly lapped it all, cleaning the cum off of Kisame’s hard muscles as he struggled to catch breath.

 

“Wanton … whore …” Kisame breathed out, watching you lick up the final remains of his seed, smiling at him innocuously.

 

You moved to lie beside the Akatsuki, fingers teasingly grazing over the strength of his chest muscles, a form of content — perhaps even a hint of, smugness? — Splaying, evident, on your face.

 

The shark man grunted. Irritated.

 

"You won't be smiling in the minute, harlot." The sword man spat, an underlying tint of amusement hinting his voice as he watched you intently — a chuckle leaving his throat, a vision coming to mind.

 

You looked up at him, frowning.

 

"Don't know if you noticed,—" you began, indicating a finger to his crotch "—but you're spent, Kisame-kun."

 

The Akatsuki glowered, reminding you of to whom you were speaking, causing you to tense against the blue mans rigged form, but, — Kisame laughed, earning a sign of relief on your behalf,

 

— until the laughter erupted, manically, sinister — a smiling curving his face, deadly teeth on show.

 

"Oh, little kunoichi—" Kisames laughter died, a big, blue hand cupped the back of your neck, raising your head closer to his "—don't be fucking stupid." He now all but snarled, beady eyes narrowing as he gripped you tighter.

 

"You're nothing but a little slut." Kisame's cheeks rose once more — smiling, though, this time "— and I know exactly what a filthy whore like you needs." This time, something more ...sensual, primitive, sexy, lay beneath the surface.

 

In a series of movements, you found yourself face down in the grass — the distinctive hand that once stroked you heatedly pressed flat against your spine, pinning you to the floor, execution style.

 

The other came under your belly, curving you upwards till your rear was in the air — oxygen leaving your lungs abruptly in a scream as the same hand slammed down, thundering against your ass with a loud 'slap'.

 

The red, swollen and bruising skin bringing a sting of excitement to Kisame's genitilia.

 

"Consider yourself lucky, (y/n)," he slapped you again "Sharks, when mating, are nothing shy of ruthless." — another slap, much more forceful this time, your ass now a kin to a beaten tomato

 

"The males usually bite their mates neck, sometimes even killing them ... " the Akatsuki trailed, pausing his hand in mid air, garnering a flinch from you below.

 

You couldn't see, but — something dark, animal, and wanton formed in Kisames eyes — instinct taking full reign as he willingly submitted to his urge, basking in lust like it were the most guilty of sins as his body stiffened and tensed — his twin manhood following suite, looming tall and proud, threateningly.

 

"Can you imagine what it would be like if I bit you, (y/n)?"

 

Your mouth fell slack against soil as panic coursed through your veins like medicine from a drip — but before you had chance to stutter some form of plea, Kisame's hand reigned down on you, cracking your skin with a mighty roar as you arched further into the source of your pain, agony consuming your form as you cried out.

 

You would have screamed, flailed, fought — sex gone bad, in more than one way, had the shark mans grip on your spine not loosened — allowing his face to fall between your legs as he bent down to inspect your risen ass — a crude smirk twisting his lips as he extended his tongue

 

— the strong appendage appearing to leave a long, lingering lick along your slit —

 

“Oh!” you cried out, earning another hard smack to your ass, and you shuddered to keep yet another mewl from escaping you.

 

You felt the grass crunch behind you, and knew, somehow, without seeing, that Kisame was positioning you.

 

His double manhood entered you, the first penetrating into your entrance, sliding in with relative ease, and the next …

 

Your eyes widened, your mouth opening in sync with the second of Kisame’s throbbing cocks, entering into your rear.

 

“Hmph,” Kisame said, hooking his hands to your hips, nails biting into your skin. “Barely any struggle —”

 

He gave a hard thrust, and you howled, the pleasuring nearly doubling your vision. You could hear Kisame cackling as he ripped into you, his hips slamming into yours with each merciless pound, before even he had to surrender to the deliciousness of your body, and his cackles turned to animal-like grunts.

 

His hands moved from your hips to your hair, and he gripped a handful of your silky hair, pulling your head back.

 

The pleasure was immense; one in your mound, pummeling your insides, and another deep in your ass. With each thrashing thrust, the feeling Kisame was delivering to you rippled through. You sunk lower in the grass, biting your lip, losing the capacity for moans or screams or movement, leaving room for pleasure and pleasure only to sink into your bones and wrap around your soul.

 

Oh! Oh! ** _Oh!_**

 

The Akatsuki was relentless; deep grunts leaving his solid, unwavering form as he pounded you viciously, pulling your hair harder, like reigns, until you were on all fours — he bent into you, a hand snaking it's way around your chest to squeeze a breast as your body shook with every powerful thrust.

 

Your back — now baring most of his much greater weight, ached, causing your joints to wobble against the dirt — the sensations; the fullness, the volatile force behind Kisame's grand form as he ravaged you senseless, his hand on your hair, the submission, oh my sweet fucking God, you thought, a drip of saliva leaving your mouth as you cried out in pleasure.

 

The hand that gripped your breast slithered from your chest, to your stomach, passing your hip bone — landing on your moist area, giving your clit a fruitful pinch before circling the nub roughly.

 

Your arms relented; caving, Kisame let his hold on your hair slacken, letting you fall face first into the grass — the Akatsuki cackled in appreciation, a digit still teasing your over stimulated clit as he rammed you with the rage of a god.

 

It was hot, fuzzy, and foreign; you didn't know weather you were going to burst, scream, or die

— perhaps all three, but it hit you quick and it hit you hard; The shark man stopped his ministrations on your nub, placing both hands on your hips; it was the only thing he could do to stop you from arching out of sync as you spasmed wildly — his name leaving your lips so helplessly as you clamped onto him, screaming, convulsing, as you came.

 

With a great spasm — and a mouthful of dirt, it was over; your spent form collapsing against the ground; Kisame having to heave you up, back into place, as his assault continued to reign; your body now ragdollish, flailing out of sorts as he pummeled you, a smirk plastering his face.

 

"That a girl, one nice, big fat orgasm for Kisame-kun." His gruff voice attempted to hold snark, like silk coated steel, but the Akatsuki was too caught up himself — your sweaty, post-orgasmic form glistening in the setting sun becoming all too much to bear for the samurai — you were on fire, and the shark man holding you firm to him was on the very edge.

 

And then went over it with a long grunt, grasping the meat of your ass, nails biting as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You clenched around him involuntarily, only extending Kisame’s ecstasy.

 

Kisame released you at long last, setting you down on the grass, collapsing along beside you.

 

“Okay …” You said, in between hot, very needed breaths. “So … I’ve been wrong before.”

 

Kisame smirked as he watched your eyes droop, before closing entirely and falling into a much needed sleep.

 

***

 

“Well, well, well …”

 

Your eyelids drifted open, your view horizontal and taken up by the large shark man beside you, grinning near Cheshire cat.

 

“Look at you, all curled up and sleepy, just like a lost kitten,” said Kisame.

 

He let out a series of deep chuckles as you rose from your spot in the grass. You brought your hands up to rub at your eyes, fighting the blurriness that came with reawakening.

 

“I guess I was enough for you after all,” Kisame continued. “Ha, and some —”

 

POOF.

 

“What the —!” Kisame said, only to be hit with a cloud of white smoke, whipping at his short hair and his re-dressed cloak. He swatted it away with an impatient growl, and saw that in its center, you no longer sat, drowsy.

 

“What the hell!” Kisame shouted, observing your empty spot.

 

From behind him, he heard something against the branch, and spun around to see you, dressed and yawning.

 

“Oh, wow, Kisame,” You said, patting your mouth. “Thanks for that. You did get a little sloppy after I left you, you know, around the second orgasm, but no one’s perfect!”

 

Kisame blinked. “What? Left? You —”

 

A thought sunk in. A horrible one.

 

Kisame’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t …”

 

You giggled. “A clone? Why, of course I did, silly!”

 

Kisame growled when you readied yourself to leap away.

 

“Gonna have to try harder next time!”

 

Kisame pounced, but you were gone in a flash, his claws digging into nothing.

 

He clutched his fist. But then, slowly, smiled.

 

He always did enjoy a hunt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay: Sharks have two penises.  
> Mel: And WHEN were you going to tell me this?

**Author's Note:**

> Kay: "Mel, do you want to do the slutty banana scene?"
> 
> Mel: "Do I, Mel, want to do the slutty banana scene? Is the grass green, the moon blue? Do I ever!"
> 
> ~ One of the many exchanges between Mel/Kay via the Book of Face.


End file.
